Two Tickets to Paradise
by dgschneider
Summary: He told her not to make any rash decisions, that this case was bigger than a root canal, then suggested a vacation & something about fruity drinks. But she's Dr. Temperance Brennan & the best she can do is a working vacation, Title 18 section 1831 means she's dragging Booth with her all the way to Thailand. This Bonesology Valentine's Day gift is for Jazzyproz
1. Chapter 1

_**This Bonesology Valentine's Day gift is for Jazzyproz. I am so sorry it's late! This winter hasn't been a good one for me. I am trying to console myself with the fact that I am getting this first chapter posted before the end of February AND that love is always in season, right?**_

 _ **Jazzy wanted: B & B all the way, A tropical/exotic setting, Pre-relationship through New-relationship, Savory food **_

_**What I came up with starts after The Boy with the Answer. Remember Booth tells Bones that maybe she needs a vacation? In this story the season 5 finale NEVER happens. Yay! No Maluku, no Afghanistan, no separation, NO Hannah!**_

 _ **I am not going to make any posting schedule promises because that just seems to guarantee all heck is going to break loose in my personal life. But I do promise to finish it AND that it will be about 5 chapters long, maybe more depending on how long it takes to get where we're going.**_

 _ **Also, this chapter has a little angst in it and there may be a tiny bit more here and there, but really by the end of this chapter the worst of it is OVER. This story is mostly fun and playful. I promise!**_

 _ **Jazzy, I love you! You are one of my favorites. Great person, great writer, and I hope this satisfies!**_

Chapter 1

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he agreed to go with her to Thailand as her partner/protector, but this certainly wasn't it. Exotic, yes, but not necessarily in the good way. And this place, Phimai, a city near the village where the dig was located in the Non Sung district of the Nakhon Ratchasima Province, was nowhere near a beach or the luscious, dense jungles - or was it forests? - whatever they called it here, the ones you see on all the tourist brochures. This was mostly flat and, while it was green and there were some very old stone temples that were pretty cool and banyan trees, it was largely rice fields, farms, small towns or villages, and lots of poverty. He spent way too much time as a sniper hulled up in places just like this waiting for the perfect shot.

Not that he was complaining. He wasn't. He was with her. While sometimes it was hard and still a little awkward, fallout from his failed attempt to move their relationship forward, every night after they returned from the dig site they headed out to the Phimai Night Market, a mix between a farmer's market and street fair. Wandering among the booths of fresh vegetables, fish, meats, baskets, crafts, and food they talked and laughed, just the two of them soaking up the local fare. It was easy to forget the awkwardness that hung over their partnership immediately following her rejection on the steps of the Hoover. He loved it, getting lost in his time alone with her, still, it was a double edged sword, a painful reminder of what he couldn't have, what wouldn't be.

But not today. No, today, all day, was spent inside the small bungalow they rented, which left way too much time to think. Booth stood by the window listening to the rain pound away as he watched it fall in solid sheets off the roof. "And you're sure this isn't the rainy season?" He hollered to be heard over the storm.

"Yes, I'm sure." She answered from behind him, leaning against the open doorway. "Monsoon season generally peaks in August. It's unusually wet for May." Shifting her weight she watched her partner as he nodded, accepting her answer without turning around to look at her.

They'd been there for a week already and it had rained some almost every day, but nothing like this. Their days were spent at the dig site, early morning until late afternoon, evening. It was her temporary lab, and he often wondered if this was what China would have been like if they'd made it off the plane.

Three days he watched from the sidelines as she helped with the excavation of remains. Saw her bent over the earth with her small brushes carefully whisking away centuries of dirt, revealing skeletal remains of men, women, children, even animals. Some easily recognizable, others just looked like bones to him.

Other days she was tucked away in an unairconditioned tent of a building, hot and humid, the buzz of electric fans blowing, sorting through boxes quite literally marked "Bone People" in black sharpie. She was predictably unhappy about that, which she made abundantly clear. Dr. Temperance Brennan, a force to be reckoned with, she was her own storm. Those poor grad students found themselves on the receiving end of a never ending lecture on the proper handling of human remains.

"They have to learn, Booth," she explained with great intensity and passion. "That is part of my job as a consulting expert on the dig. I would be remiss if I didn't teach them." Days later and she still brought it up every time a runner came to her with another box of bones. He smiled every time, that was Bones, didn't matter if she was in her lab or at a crime scene, giving a guest lecture, or off in some foreign land, she was always teaching.

Eventually he stopped hovering, a relief to both of them, and spent some time checking the perimeter of the dig site, taking a look at their security procedures, talking with those charged with securing the site. They all spoke a little English, enough for him to do a little teaching of his own.

But not today. Booth let out a heavy the rain made it impossible to get from their bungalow in Phimai to the site in Ban Non Wat, impossible to go out exploring the market, impossible to do anything but hunker down in their stark accommodations and wait for the storm to pass.

A couple more steps and she was standing just behind him. He could feel her close, that energy, her energy, and took in a sharp breath. He wasn't good at doing nothing, she wasn't either. And while he couldn't account for what she was thinking about, this time, this forced idleness, made it hard for him not to think about "them," about what went wrong on the steps of the Hoover that night, rehearsing that conversation over and over. Mentally, it wasn't where he wanted to be. Turning around, he forced himself out of that mindset.

"I'm sorry you can't get to the dig site today, Bones. I know it's hard after coming all the way around the world to be there." His sympathetic brown eyes caught hers. Always genuine, _always_ , always connected, always caring, like she was his only concern in the world. They left her speechless, overwhelmed by what she saw there. Her eyes fell shut momentarily.

It was her turn to offer up a mere nod of acceptance, with no words to express all the thoughts swirling in her head. Being here, with him, it was good. She needed this after the long, tedious year they'd shared, culminating in the gravedigger trial, and she was sure he needed it too. They needed it, she sought to persuade herself, to find their center. Plus, it was his idea for her to get away, to take a vacation.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she let her whole posture fall as she released the tension she held high and tight.

"It's okay. The dig isn't the only reason I'm here." She was tired, weary really, and this, this dig, this time with him, just him, no murders, no pressure from well meaning friends and colleagues, tucked away in their own world, it was restorative. At least it was suppose to be, though she was afraid she lost sight of that, getting caught up in the dig.

But not today. Today forced her to stop and take inventory, personal inventory. Reaching for his hand, she took it in her own and tugged, leading him out of the small house and onto a covered porch. Booth followed, as he so often did, without question, until she sat down on the wooden bench swing made for two and patted the spot next to her. Nodding, he sat down and they began to rock slowly back and forth, setting a lazy pace.

The small deck looked out over the Mun River and through the streams of water pouring off the roof was the perfect view. Storm clouds rolling, flashes of lightning, streaks of deep purples and blues, the sunset was barely peeking around the edges of dark clouds.

It wasn't long before he felt her head fall to his shoulder followed by a sweet, soft sigh of contentment. One thing he knew for sure, he couldn't deny her, she'd proven that over and over again. It didn't matter whether it was something as small as a slow dance at her high school reunion or as big as bearing the burden of unrequited love to stay partners because she still wanted it, needed it. Or this, sitting side by side in long drawn out silence, her curled up next to him, as if nothing had happened between them, as if she hadn't rejected him and they hadn't agreed to move on.

"I'm not seeing Andrew anymore." Her words cut through the roar of monsoon rains beating the roof and earth and river that ran in front of their rented cottage.

"You're not?"

She took in a long deep breath. "No...no...not anymore."

He wasn't sure if he should ask why or what happened. He wasn't all that fond of Hacker to begin with, but if he hurt her, well, he wasn't sure he could deal with that and not say something, or worse, do something about it. At the same time, he was admittedly relieved to hear that the two of them weren't going out anymore. He never really wanted her to date him in the first place, obviously, she deserved better than Hacker.

"I'm sorry, Bones, if he couldn't see what a catch you are, he doesn't deserve you."

"It wasn't him." She stated definitively. "It was me. He wanted more, he wanted a relationship."

"Bones…Bones, he's my boss, you really don't-"

"But I want to tell you." She jumped to explain. "You are my partner...and...and my friend and I want to tell-"

"Well, yeah..." Letting out a long tempered breath, Booth let his head fall back, and he stared up at the ceiling of the covered porch as he braced himself for what was to come.

"He wanted to have sex with me." Booth flinched, he tried not to, he tried not to react at all, but it was involuntary. And she felt it, he knew she did.

"Of course he did."

"But, I found that as much as I enjoy his company, I didn't want to have sex with him...I...I _couldn't_ …." That last word came out slow and careful, drawn out, emphasising its implications. "I couldn't...and I'm not sure why, because he is attractive...not as attractive as you, but attractive, and charming. I find him funny and he's intelligent enough, but I found myself uninterested, more than uninterested, I was...I just... _couldn't_." Her tone let Booth know it troubled her and he wondered if this was why she was bringing it up, because she needed his help understanding her own feelings, something she often turned to him for.

What she didn't tell him was that the whole situation reminded her of Sully and his offer to sail away with him, which made it all the more troubling to her. She remembered the intensity of that feeling, she couldn't do it, couldn't leave, no matter how hard she'd tried, she'd felt...tied to her life in DC. She couldn't. Though now she questioned whether it was her life in DC she was tied to or her partner, who seemed to be the common denominator in both situations.

"So, what you're saying here is that your _gut_ told you not to." There was definitely some gloating going on, which broke the building intensity between them. She could feel his broad smile and the puffed up change in his posture. Shaking her head slightly side to side, she laughed, soft and low, scooting in just a little closer. She loved this part of him, it always made her smile.

"No, not my gut, my gut doesn't _tell_ me anything...and neither does yours." she added quickly.

"Look, Bones, if you don't want to sleep with someone, no matter who it is, Hacker or anyone else for that matter, even if you have a million great rational reasons for doing it, don't do it, okay? You shouldn't. When you make love to someone, you should both be all in, you know? You should both want it and everything that comes with it."

Nodding against his shoulder, she wrapped her arm through his and squeezed, curling in a little closer. Lulled by the even movement of the swing, the pair settled into one another. Their bodies at ease with one another, while their minds raced through the gap in conversation.

"I, uh, I'm not seeing Catherine anymore either." His words hung in the air until his confession started to get uncomfortable.

"Why?" Lifting her head, she put her foot down firmly which stopped the gentle rhythm of the swing, and turned to look at Booth. "I thought she made you laugh. I thought you were compatible."

He shrugged.

"I don't know why, I mean, sometimes it just, you know, doesn't go anywhere." Searching his eyes for something more, she let them dart across his fine features. "It wasn't a bad thing, it wasn't even really anything at all. We went out a few times and those times got farther and farther apart until we just didn't really contact each other anymore. It just petered out."

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, as if she was deciding whether to accept his answer, then laid her head back down on his shoulder and let her hand slip down into his. "Okay." Pushing off with her tiptoes, she started the swing rocking again. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I'm good." And he was.

Catherine had taught him something, he wasn't ready to move on, no matter what he told her or Sweets or anyone else for that matter. This woman sitting next to him, leaning on him, holding his hand, she wasn't so easy to move on from, and he was okay with that for the moment.

The storm gathered strength and they watched as the electricity flickered and went out across the whole area, forcing them inside. They lit candles and raided the small refrigerator in their bungalow for leftovers, which they shared around a tiny coffee table in their crowded living space. It all felt so natural, sitting next to each other in the tiny living room laughing, like so many midnight meals shared in DC, except this wasn't DC.

"Thank you, Booth." They were cleaning up, putting away the remnants of their makeshift dinner, rinsing dishes, wiping down counters, and her comment caught him off guard. It was out of the blue, unrelated to anything they were talking about as they ate and talked and laughed, she could see his confusion. "For coming...with me...thank you." He nodded, smiled, but before he could respond she reached up and kissed him, her warm lips lingering against his cheek for just a moment too long, and then she was gone, calling over her shoulder that she was going to bed.

He sat alone in the dark, watching the flashes of lightning, counting, his whole body bracing for the thunder he knew would follow, no more distractions to occupy his mind. He wouldn't go to sleep, he knew that, it wasn't worth the risk of being startled back awake in a state of confusion and panic. She didn't think about it, how the storm might be affecting him, until she made her way back out to the kitchen for a drink and saw him sitting there, staring straight out into it.

"I used to love storms." She spoke into the darkness. "When I was a little girl my dad used to drive me all around town chasing rainbows. They always seemed kind of magical." Booth heard the cupboard open, the clank of a glass, the door close, and then she was there beside him. Not much more than a silhouette in her soft grey t-shirt and sleep shorts. "That all changed when they left." Clearing her throat, she took in a sharp breath, let out a heavy sigh, and sat down beside him, handing him her glass. "After that...after that...they were just dark and…" Another long, measured breath, a sip of the hard liquor Booth handed back to her, and she continued, "and lonely."

It was late, too late for pretense. "C'mere." He whispered, as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close, rubbing her shoulder lightly. Two souls beat about by life, their experiences weren't exactly the same, but they understood one another in a way they chose not to articulate more often than not.

"The sound...it's the sound for me. It stirs up...memories." Back in DC those memories were manageable. That was home, it felt like home and sounded like home, and there were plenty of people and things to anchor him. Though, even at home he never slept well during thunderstorms and sometimes, if it was a really bad one or if he was having an off day, he didn't sleep at all. This place, this place wasn't home, there was nothing here to ground him in reality except her, and he worried that he'd scare her if his PTSD got the better of him. "I can't...I can't go to sleep like that."

Cocking her head, she pulled away and looked up at him. "I understand," then fell back into him.

That was all they said on the matter. They left it there. Sitting quietly in the dark, each flash, each thunderclap, brought little movements, slight adjustments drawing them closer. She pulled her legs up underneath her, leaning into him. He moved into the corner of the couch, pulling her with him. Her head slipped from his shoulder down onto his chest. He stretched out his legs, pulling them up onto the cushions. She stretched out too, wiggling between him and the back of the couch, one leg falling across his. He slipped down to rest his head on a pillow. She followed, letting her arm lay across his chest, her fingers drawing slow even patterns. His hand fell low on her waist, following the curve of her hip. She hummed.

The more they relaxed, the more comfort they attained, the more intertwined their bodies became, until they were knit together. The storm eased, lightning and thunder grew farther and farther apart as their breaths became deeper, slower, more even, until she gave into the security she felt and slept. He stayed awake for a little while longer. Long enough to feel her body jerk to the loud roar of another thunderclap, to feel her pull in and whisper, "tighter." Long enough to do as she asked and hold her closer, to kiss the top of her head and promise to keep her safe. Long enough to call her baby.

But not much longer than that. He followed her into a sound sleep.

It was the bright morning light streaming in the open windows that woke Booth. His arms were empty and he wondered, for a moment, if it was all a dream. But there she was, bustling around the small kitchen in the same grey shirt and shorts. She didn't say anything about the night before, just thrust a cup of coffee at him with both hands as he struggled to get his bearings and sit up.

"Thanks." He mumbled as he took the cup from her. He was a few swallows in before realized how late it must be. "I'll get dressed and we can get going." He offered.

"Take your time, Booth, we're not going to the site today." He looked confused. "I already called in." Squaring her shoulders, she stood up a little straighter, bolder. "We are going to go to the Phimai Historical Park and a couple other places here locally. There's a banyan tree that's over 350 years old and you can walk amongst the ruins of the temple there." Swallowing, he looked up at her over the edge of his cup of coffee.

"Okay." He nodded, not really sure how to take the change of plans or her intensity.

"I will go to the dig site tomorrow." Softening, she smiled. "I'm going to go change now." He watched her go, confused, but not about to complain. He was still watching when she called over her shoulder. "On Saturday we are going to take a day trip to the Khao Yai National Park, there's an amazing waterfall there. It's only a couple hours away."

Smiling against the warm mug, he sat back against the couch and let out a deep, satisfying sigh.

He had a theory, formed over the last twenty-four hours, solidified when she lay sleeping in his arms. That kiss on the steps of the Hoover was a mistake, his mistake. Yeah, he was the gambler, the risk taker, but he was also the guy that trusted his gut, and his gut said there was something between them, something solid. That she might be scared, but she felt it too, maybe even wanted it. His mistake was listening to Sweets that night. He should've waited, he should've taken what the kid was saying under advisement and listened to his gut, waited for it to tell him she was ready, that it was time to make that move. That was his . And maybe, hopefully, he could fix that.

ooooo0ooooo

 _A/N: Thank you for reading! So, what do you think so far? I am anxious to hear from you!_

 _Special thanks to Chosenname and Snowybones for helping me out with editing and support. Saying thank you doesn't even begin to cover my gratitude, especially this month because I am still not 100% and my brain is all kinds of wonky._

Much love,

DG


	2. Chapter 2

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." She answered all too quickly. Making a point to connect with his worried brown eyes, she gave him a soft smile.

"Bones."

"I'm fine, Booth, really."

Her mood had shifted so quickly there was no way to ignore the change. One minute they were laughing, chatting back and forth as they ate their lunch under the thick canopy of a 350-year-old banyan tree the natives called Sai Ngam, the next she was quiet and contemplative.

Waiting, Booth took a few more bites. He hoped that by giving her a little time she'd open up and let him know what was troubling her.

"I'm here." He said softly, looking back down at his plate momentarily, then back up to catch her stormy eyes. "When you're ready...I'm here." It was a loaded statement, carrying more meaning than he thought she would understand.

Their conversation lagged, the gap filled by sounds of the park they were sitting in. Giggling children at play. People chattering in a language Booth didn't understand, despite the fact that he'd picked up a few words here and there. The sweet melodic sounds of an old man sitting cross-legged on the ground playing some kind of traditional three-stringed guitar.

She gave him a slight nod, her eyes wide, her heart full of his comforting words. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it momentarily. "I know." And he wanted to believe her answer, like his comforting statement, held more than those two simple words conveyed.

Letting his eyes dart unabashedly across her whole being, he studied her a little longer. Deciding, eventually, a change in subject might be a good way to lighten the mood. Holding up a big bite of Pad Mie Moo, a spicy chicken and pork dish with rice noodles unique to Phimai, he began to speak, shaking his chopsticks full of food for emphasis.

"You know, the Thai food back home is never gonna be as good as this." Winking, he popped the oversized bite into his mouth.

"No, it won't." She chuckled. It felt good to hear her laugh again, to see the amusement in her eyes. Nudging her shoulder with his own, he continued as he finished chewing and swallowed.

"The beer, on the other hand, God, it's awful." Still, he grabbed his up from next to him on the bench and took a long pull. "What was that papaya thing you liked?"

"Som Tum," she answered.

"Yeah, Som Tum. It was pretty good, I might eat that."

"Really?" Unable to hide her surprise, her voice rose. Som Tum was basically salad, something Booth usually avoided like the plague. "It's made with fresh green papaya, garlic, Thai chilies…," her words spread farther and farther apart. "Green beans...cherry tomatoes…," until her voice trailed off, her mind wandering back toward other thoughts.

They'd shared food almost every meal since they had arrived in Phimai, just like they did at home, but not the same way. He'd reach out with a bite on his chopsticks, or she would, and they'd feed each other. It felt different. More intimate than back in D.C., and she wondered if that was because they were far away from home and all the hallmarks that helped them keep within their carefully constructed professional boundaries.

It had taken some convincing to get him to try the Som Tum. In part, because she was a vegetarian. In her dish the shrimp had been replaced with tofu, not Booth's favorite, which he'd been very vocal about. The way he'd scrunched up his face in anticipation of the tofu made her laugh, and the bite started to fall as she reached out towards him. She'd barely made it to his mouth and watched with amusement as sauce dripped down his chin. Without even thinking she'd wiped it away, lingering for a moment as her thumb brushed across his lips.

"Can you even get that in D.C.?" Shaking off the intimacy of the memory, she shrugged. It felt to Booth like he was fighting to keep her there with him, but she kept slipping away. "That's the one they crush in the big bowl, right, with the...that wooden club thing? Even if we can find it, bet they don't use that in D.C., not sure the health department would let 'em." He chuckled.

"Mortar and pestle." Shaking her head a little she paused and looked back at him, skeptical, trying to figure out if he was feigning ignorance to humor her.

"Right. Mortar...and pestle." He said definitively. Watching them make the food in the street markets was fascinating, although he found it best not to think too hard about how unsanitary it was compared to restaurants back in America. "I've never seen one that big." Old, banged up wooden bowls with thick, heavy pestles were everywhere, almost all the food carts used them. The wear and tear of years of use gave them a kind of history and character Booth respected. "And the barbecue, God, I'm gonna miss that. And that green rice krispie treat thing we got the other night, the one with the peanuts and...and…"

"Sesame seeds."

"Yeah, that's it...sesame seeds, that was good, right? Bet you can't get that back in the States." She nodded in agreement.

"Probably not….I'll miss the Coconut ice cream." She added, with the first real hint of excitement in her eyes since her sudden mood change. "Although, I'm fairly certain I can find that at one of the Asian markets in town."

"You do like your coconut ice cream." She'd eaten it almost every night.

"I do." She affirmed, smiling. "I never had it before this trip."

"Really?" He nudged her a little to bring her eyes to his, filing away a plan to find it for her when they got back home.

"Yes." Falling back into silence, he watched as she sat pushing the last vestiges of chili stained rice noodles, bits of Chinese broccoli, and a few bean sprouts around her plate.

"Well, take out won't be same, but, you know, it'll be a good reminder of this trip, right? We can order in when we're neck deep in a case or finishing up paperwork late at night and think about those Khmer Temple ruins you took me to this morning, all the stories you told about how they carved into the sandstone to keep their history and scare off their enemies. Or maybe about this, us sitting here, just the two of us, under this big, old banyan tree with its, what, thousand trunks and crazy roots, in the shade, and remember how we were dripping with sweat and laughing about how different take out was going to be when we got back home."

His voice softened as he spoke, weaving a story of them here and there. Almost lyrical, it pulled her in. Their eyes caught and held momentarily, and he saw it, a flash of something deep and soulful that she was wrestling with, and he wondered if somehow her change in mood was about him. Her heart raced, her breath was shallow and quick, and when she spoke it was soft and decidedly sad.

"I was thinking about happiness," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Happiness?"

"Yes. Happiness. It's a complicated concept, not easily defined, not quantifiable by any scientific standard."

His eyes softened. "No, no, I guess it's not."

"Love, laughter, friendship, purpose. That's what you said happiness was."

That took him back. The look in her eyes when he'd said he wished she could find happiness and she'd said she didn't know what that meant, he'd never forget that. It damn near crushed him, he wanted that for her, she deserved it, earned it, and he wanted more than anything to be the one to give her that.

"Well, yeah, that's part of it."

"But that's not the actual definition of happiness." Pausing, she held her breath momentarily.

"No, I guess not technically."

"I have purpose." Booth nodded. "My career as a forensic anthropologist gives me a sense of purpose, my status as a leading authority in my field. And...and my students, my interns, my work as their teacher, passing on my knowledge to them, that gives me a sense of pride and fulfillment also. But, happiness? I'm not sure."

His mind raced for a way to explain it to her that she could understand. It wasn't that she'd never felt happiness, he knew that; it was that she didn't know how to recognize it.

"The books I write, although obviously more frivolous, are not devoid of purpose. I continue to write them because I'm able to pass on my knowledge of forensic science to my readers. I feel that's significant. And...and our work together, our partnership has been quite successful. That's quantifiable, the number of murders we've put away. And while there's no way to measure how many lives we've saved by doing so, I'm sure the numbers would be significant."

"Well, yeah, of course."

"All of those aspects of my life give me a sense of purpose, although I'm not entirely sure how that translates into happiness."

"It's hard to measure, Bones, but, that doesn't mean you aren't feeling it." She nodded in acknowledgment, but when she spoke again she completely ignored what he'd said.

"The word happiness has been used for centuries, since the early 1500s. The definition varies widely. It can be anything from contentment to elation, joy or felicity. Pleasure, in both its active and passive forms, falls under the definition of happiness; even bliss, which has a decidedly sexual connotation, is listed under the definition of happiness. That...that is a very broad definition."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

She had.

Ever since that night in the Founding Fathers, she couldn't seem to let it go. Especially during the preparation for the Gravedigger trial when she'd felt surrounded by darkness. It had become an unbearable weight when combined with the long year of worry over Booth's health, the overwhelming confusion her feelings for him evoked, and the aftermath of his proposition on the steps of the Hoover and her subsequent refusal. Happiness seemed elusive at best, unattainable in the wake of the harsh realities of life.

"Yes." She whispered under her breath, quiet but definite. "I have."

It wasn't unusual for her to turn to Booth to understand concepts that seemed elusive to her, and he could there was more she wanted to share by the way she fidgeted uncomfortably, shrugged her shoulders, tilted her head, and let out a huff of frustration before she spoke again.

"I don't feel elated when we solve a case, but I do feel contentment and satisfaction, which would technically fall under the definition of happiness."

"Yeah, yeah, there's definitely a sense of satisfaction there."

"Yes, satisfaction, but happiness?" One of her eyebrows arched up high on her forehead. "I don't know. I don't know if I've ever really felt it." Her voice was quiet and resigned.

"You have. I promise, you have, you just don't recognize it." He gave her a nod and waited for one in return. "When I said those things about happiness, friendship, love, and purpose, I didn't mean it like a definition. It was more like...like...examples, you know, examples of things that make people happy. Like friends, right? Happiness comes from being with them, from the experiences you share...together...with them, like when you and Angela go shopping or do whatever girlie-"

"I'm not a girl anymore, neither is-"

"Okay, woman...woman things you two do together. Or like us doing lunch." He waited for her her to acknowledge what he was saying, then continued with a more personal example. "Like you stealing my fries."

"I don't steal you-"

"It's okay, I like it, it may seem silly, you know, but it makes me happy. It's something we share."

"It's ours." She added.

"Exactly."

"We have many shared experiences."

"Yeah, yeah, we do." Reaching over, he took the foam plate and chopsticks from her and set them down on the bench next to him. Then reached over and gathered up her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. He caught her eyes and held them, wanting to make sure she felt the impact of what he said next. "You make me happy."

It was a bold statement and he watched her expression carefully, trying to decide if it made her uncomfortable. It didn't seem to. Taking a deep breath, Booth stood and tugged on her hand until she followed. Leading her away from the cement bench they were sitting on, he stepped off the stone path and onto the ground. "C'mere."

"Where are we going?"

"Not far." A couple steps and he stopped.

They were standing in a clearing of sorts, in the middle of tall trunks and roots that looked like tendrils twisting from high up in the trees down into the ground. Light was streaming in from above their heads through a canopy of leaves, casting heavy shadows on the ground beneath them. She looked back over her shoulder at her belongings still piled around the base of the bench, then turned to Booth, whose warm eyes were waiting for her.

Pulling her close, he let one arm wrap around her waist, his hand settling near the small of her back while the other reached for her fingers. Fiddling with them at first, he marveled at the strength he found in her hands, slender, deceptively dainty, sure, deliberate. Today he found them warm, malleable, which was significant to him because she didn't stiffen or resist. Her fingers wrapped around his thumb as his larger hand enveloped hers, and he pulled their hands up between them. They could still hear the music, beautiful, rich sounds of guitar drifted around them in this exotic setting as Booth started to sway to the music.

"Booth." She spoke softly. "What are you doing?"

"Dancing, Bones, I'm dancing with you."

He watched as her eyes darted across their surroundings and back to him. Gently rubbing her hand along his shoulder, she brushed it lightly before letting her arm hook tentatively around his neck.

"The Thai people are quite conservative when it comes to how men and women interact in public. I'm not sure they'd find this acceptable." She closed her eyes momentarily because she knew she sounded stiff and awkward.

"It's just a dance, Bones, it'll be fine, we'll be fine." Her body softened a little in his arms. "You're overthinking it."

"There's nothing to overthink, Booth." She looked confused. "It's a cultural standard, it's not a matter of-."

"No, not that. Happiness. You're overthinking happiness. It's a feeling, right? So, just stop thinking for a momen-"

"I can't stop thinking."

"Yes, you can...You can." He reiterated when he saw disbelief heavy in her eyes. "Remember, brain in neutral, right, just pop it in neutral and let yourself feel."

They were both quiet for a moment, letting the late afternoon sounds of the park fill the air as the streams of light and shadows of leaves danced around them. He could feel her slowly relax in his arms until her head came to rest on his shoulder. It felt good to hold her like this, so good he hesitated to break the spell by talking, but there was more he wanted to tell her, more that he wanted her to understand.

"Friendship, love, whatever you wanna call it, we share that, you know."

"In a professional, attagirl kinda way?"

"More than that...it's more than that between us. I mean, you know, friends love each other, right?" Pausing for a moment he waited for a response that never came. "And...you...you're my friend, more than just my friend, right? I mean, everything's not always black and white, things don't always fit into definitions. And we're different, you know, we're...more." She was quick to agree, nodding. _They,_ whatever that was, the way she felt about Booth, was not easily categorized or defined. "Pops...Pops always says love is what you've been through together and we've...we've been through a lot together."

"We have." She confirmed as her mind raced through their shared history, through countless cases and rescues and late nights. Through hugs and tears, endless bickering and laughs, and confidences neither would ever share with anyone else. "You love me."

They stopped moving. For a brief second the whole world felt like it stood still.

"Yes. I do."

She felt his fingers twitch against the small of her back and watched as his eyes darted from hers, to her lips, and back. He knew she saw it, and his heart raced as she leaned in so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. Swallowing hard, he fought the urge to close the gap between them and kiss her. The last time he did that it didn't end well for either of them. He took a deep breath and started to dance again, pulling her with him.

"Purpose, Bones, friendship and love," Reaching out and up with the hand he still held, he spun her around under his arm, pulled her back in, and dipped her. Squealing in surprise, she laughed, soft and low, and he wondered if she knew what that sweet sound did to him, "laughter and a dance." She was still bent over his arm, eyes glistening in surprise and wonder when he spoke again. "Happiness."

Pulling her up, he gathered her back into his arms and they continued to dance. She settled in, letting her body fall in line with his. Resting her head on the hand she hooked over his shoulder, she took several long deep breaths. Feel, he told her to feel. It was hard for her to let go like that normally, easier wrapped in his arms. Another long breath found her lost in the moment. The firm strength of him surrounding her, the smell of him, a mix of scents uniquely his. The safety she felt when she was with him, it brought her a kind of peace she never thought she'd know. The music drifting on the breeze. The shadows dancing on their joined hands. The days they spent together that stretched backwards into weeks and months and years.

"By your definition, I would have to conclude that I am happy." His whole body pulled her in a little closer and she was sure she felt him smile, which made her smile in return.

"I am too." He whispered against her forehead, pressing a lingering kiss there, "I am too."

ooooo0ooooo

A/N: Thank you for your patience and for all your support and love. I really appreciate it more than I can actually express. This winter seemed to stretch out into a rough spring, such is life, right? I've found so many dear friends here. Thank you also for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I hope to answer them all at some point. I am way behind. I apologize for that.

Okay...this chapter might not have been what you were expecting. I know it wasn't what I was expecting or what I wanted it to be. I wanted something fun and playful and kind of sexy, but the more I tried to force it in that direction the more frustrated and unproductive my writing became. After about four different chapter starts and lots of wrestling with the story I gave in, stopped arguing, and just wrote what came. This chapter is the result of that. I don't know if it's because where I set the story in the timeline or where I'm at personally. I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way, I'm excited to see where this is going.

Special thanks to faithinbones, chosenname, snowybones, and morebonesplz for their encouragement and insight. And extra thanks to chosenname for her editing expertise.

This is where I shamelessly ask for reviews. Truth is, I love to hear your thoughts on what I've written. They are always insightful and I find them so encouraging and motivating.

Happy Spring wherever you are! Here's to warm weather and the end to cold and flu season...hopefully!

Much love,

DG


	3. Chapter 3

"Bones."

Tension filled his voice making it tight and strained, a hot combination of worry and irritation. He'd woken up in the middle of the night, thirsty, gotten up and padded out to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, only to find himself staring into her empty bedroom. The door wide open, light streaming out into the hall.

"Bones."

It wasn't that alarming at first. Hell, she could've been in the bathroom or getting a drink or something.

"Bones?"

But, she wasn't. It was a small place, smaller than his apartment and she wasn't anywhere to be found. Not in the house. Not on the porch. Grabbing his shoes and a flashlight, he headed out to search the grounds, parking lot first. If their rental car was gone it probably meant she went back to the dig site, he could live with that. He'd lecture her later about not going anywhere alone. Remind her of the night she'd gotten mobbed at the market place when someone had recognized her from that article the Japanese writer had come to D.C. and interviewed her for.

His shoulders slumped and he let out an audible groan of frustration and worry. The car was there.

"Bones."

There was a hushed intensity to his voice as he followed the paths that wove in between the bungalows and sitting areas, pushing aside an overgrowth of tree limbs and ferns, all the way down to the water's edge. With the car there and her gone anything was possible, and his mind drifted immediately toward worst case scenarios.

"Bones!"

"Booth?" He saw her bolt upright, startled to hear her name in the dead of night, her silhouette backlit by moonlight and the soft glow of candles. "I'm here, Booth."

"What the hell are you doing out here?" He wrestled with the mosquito netting that hung from the limb of a tree like a tent, trying to find an opening to get to her, before finally gathering it up and throwing it over his head and shoulders as he stepped in under it.

"Sitting...enj-"

"It's the middle of the goddamn night." His jaw ticked, pulsing with tension as he huffed out his complaint, working hard to keep his voice quiet, but not hiding the sharpness of his tone one bit. "You couldn't sit inside or on the porch or, I don't know, wake me up t-"

Unwilling to accept his over-protective rant, she stepped right into his space, answering him tit for tat. "I'm a grown woman, Booth. I don't have to tell you every time I leave the apartment. I...I can take care of myself. I don't need yo-"

"I know, you can take care of yourself." He was parroting her, exaggerating her voice and intonation, which irritated her to no end. She was about to answer him when he threw up his hand, shushing her. "Courtesy, Bones, you could have told me out of courtesy. I'm here to protect you, remember? It's kinda my job."

He took a step himself, right into the light of the candles she'd lit, and for the first time in their short exchange she didn't answer. No shirt, soft grey gym shorts hanging low on his hips. The waistband twisted and rolled under on one side like he just slipped them on in a rush. Vans, no socks. He'd been worried about her. Her eyes traveled back up his body, slow and deliberate, and when she spoke there was a little less fire in her voice.

"I was being courteous, Booth. You...you…were asleep. I was letting you sleep."

He took a breath, a long one, and took the moment to look around. She'd been stretched out in a wooden lounge chair, and there was a table near her with a glass and a bottle on it. No books or journals or papers. Just her. That wasn't very much like her, which pulled his attention back to his partner, and for the first time he took a really good look. Sleep shorts that kind of looked like boxers, some kind of tank top with thin little straps, hair down around her shoulders, curly from the humidity, unkempt, no makeup that he could see, standing there barefoot. Anger and frustration melted into worry.

"Are you okay? Why'd you come down here?"

"Booth." She didn't want to answer him, she wouldn't, she decided, folding her arms across her chest in defiance.

He stepped past her, turning the flashlight off and setting it down on the table before picking up the bottle to look at the label. "Scotch. My scotch."

"Booth." She sounded tired, really tired, the worn out kind of tired.

"It's okay, I mean, I don't care if you drink it, you know that." She nodded, arms still wrapped tightly around her, shifting her weight back and forth, watching him intently as he sunk down onto the lounge chair.

She didn't usually drink scotch, she was more of a fine wine kind of person, and he knew they had a couple of bottles she liked in their bungalow. Further evidence she was dealing with something she wasn't telling him about.

Reaching out, he found her hand tucked under her arm and fiddled with her fingers until he felt her relax enough to take it in his own. Tenderly, he tugged until she came and sat down next to him. "Seriously, I know you haven't been sleeping, so...what's going on?" His tone was quieter, concerned, and he leaned closer, bumping her shoulder with her own.

She let out a huff of a sigh, but still didn't answer. Sometimes it felt like he knew her too well, like she couldn't hide anything from him, like every little look or glance gave away her innermost thoughts, which always left her wondering just how much he really knew. She wasn't sleeping. Not that she ever slept well, but since that dance they shared three days ago it was worse.

Her mind had been swimming in unanswerable questions, circulating a thousand what-ifs and maybes. Trying not to read meaning into every little look or act or conversation they shared, but failing terribly. It seemed to her like they were standing closer, touching more, like never before, giving themselves allowances they wouldn't in D.C., and she tried to control it, resist, but she found she couldn't. Which meant something, should mean something, she knew that, but what that was and what to do about it she just couldn't decipher. So her brain, her exquisite, phenomenal brain, worked and worked on the problem day and night to no avail.

"It's okay, Bones, whatever it is, it's okay, you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

It was a quiet gasp, an uncontrollable sharp intake of air which escaped when he turned towards her, reaching across to tuck a few stray curls behind her ear. Strong and firm, steadying, but so careful and tender at the same time, there was no denying how safe and comforted she felt at his touch. Her eyes fell shut and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears it overwhelmed every other thought.

Settling their joined hands in his lap, his thumb started to rub back and forth over her soft skin as his eyes dropped. They had a natural rhythm, sometimes it was fast paced, sometimes slow and even, but always passionate, even under the guise of partners only or best friends, everything with them ran deeper than the surface showed. Drawing his eyes back up to hers, he waited until hers opened to him.

She shrugged.

And he knew she wasn't ready to talk about it.

Booth looked around "You know, it's kind of nice down here." The deck was on the edge of the water, jetting out into the Mun River. He could hear it lapping rhythmically against the wooden posts. The river was wide, but the moon was full, reflecting across the top as it rolled by. The dark, shadowy outline of trees ran along the banks and stretched out along the water.

He didn't like silence, but he felt like she needed it. He would sit quietly with her, for her. Reaching for her glass, he lifted it, motioning to her before taking a drink. He swallowed hard, pausing while the burn of the hard liquor rolled down his throat.

It didn't take long for her to scoot closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a quiet hum. Sitting like this with him made everything seem so simple. It felt natural and easy.

"Things are different between us." It was almost a whisper and there was an undertone of unsurety to her admission. "Not bad." She added quickly.

"True."

"I mean I believe they're _better_... _we're_ better than right after...you know." She didn't need to add specifics, he knew exactly what she was talking about. Letting that thought hang in the air was almost painful. And while she usually didn't rush to fill the silence, she found the need to this time. "I...I really didn't like Dr. Catherine Bryar."

"Why?" He asked softly.

Turning, she looked straight into his eyes and he was sure she was silently begging him not to make her say it. But, she needed to. He knew she did. She knew it too, no matter how hard it was to admit. And more than that, he needed to hear her answer. She saw that need and watched as he swallowed hard in anticipation. For him, for him she would let herself be vulnerable, only for him. Turning to face the river, she spoke quietly.

"She made you laugh." There was a sadness in her voice, a painful truth given voice.

Booth moved and at first she thought he was moving away from her, but he wasn't. Turning on the lounge he leaned back, encouraging her to settle between his legs and lean back against his chest. She looked skeptical at first, he watched her wrestle with the decision, her lip rolling between her teeth as she considered whether to afford them such an intimate position. But she needed that connection with him, that intimacy, at least it felt like she did. Pulling her legs up, she came to rest against him, sighing contently as the weight of his arms fell around her.

"Jealousy." She wiggled a little more after the confession, craning her neck to see his reaction. "I was jealous. I didn't want anything to change between us, that's why I said no, well, that was one of the reasons. I didn't want to risk how that could end." She was confident she would mess things up, that she would hurt him and when she did, things would end between them. She wouldn't just lose a lover, she'd lose her partner, and more, much more, her friend, her best friend. "And I understood that you would have to move on, I did, but I didn't account for how I would feel when you started dating other...other..."

"Women," he finished for her, giving her a simple nod. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. It was hard for me to hear about your dates too." Rooting in a little closer, she felt him tuck into her, tightening his hold.

"You don't like Andrew?"

"No. No, I mean, he's my boss, right? And, well kind of a goob, but he's okay. What I don't like is the _idea_ of you and Hacker.. _.together_...but it could've been anybody, Bones. I don't like the idea of you with anybody." He chuckled a little at himself and moved so he could see her better. He looked so serious. "Nobody's good enough for you."

She was about to argue but fell silent, shutting her mouth before she said anything. That's the way it had always been with him, her choice of men had always fallen short in Booth's eyes. Although, she figured it was just part of his protective nature, his need to be the alpha male, not his own desire to be with her.

"Besides, Bones, I wanted it to be me." Honest. She was being honest, and he would be too.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to make things better. I thought if I were dating it would help you move on...but...but...it didn't work, not like I thought it would. And now...now…" She stopped short and even though he waited for her to continue, she didn't.

"Now." He added with a sigh.

This was what was keeping her up at night, the now, and not just the now, but also the future. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but talking about it stirred up a whole mess of memories and fears he'd been holding back.

He'd thought he was going to lose her completely after the Gravedigger's trial. _More than a little time,_ that's what she'd told him, _it might take more than a little time,_ and he'd put her in a cab. Seeing her there, staring back at him out the back window, felt like so much more than just a simple goodnight or goodbye, it had felt dangerously permanent.

He hadn't heard from her for a couple days. It had been hard, almost impossible, but he'd known he needed to give her some space, time _and_ space. And then it was lunches as usual, but not normal, there still had been a gap sitting there between them, an awkwardness. Until one day she'd appeared in his office doorway tapping on the metal door frame, standing outside the threshold as if after all these years she had needed to be invited in.

That had been hard. Gave him good reason to pause.

It had worried him.

"I have the opportunity to join an ongoing dig in Ban Non Wat, Thailand." She'd said before she even stepped into his office. Waiting for a response, she'd paused and watched him carefully. He only remembered bits and pieces after that. He'd stood as he motioned for her to come in, pacing, moving files around his office, keeping his hands and body busy as her words had swirled around him, knotting in the pit of his stomach.

A renowned archaeologist from England. Ongoing dig. Her expertise. Good for the Jeffersonian. Her eyes had followed him, he'd felt her searing gaze.

"I accepted."

He'd stopped.

His eyes had darted over her, but he never let them connect.

"They have unearthed countless graves, well...not countless," her own nervous laugh had interrupted her. "They have counted them, but that's not the point, the remains appear to be from the Neolithic, Bronze, _and_ Iron Age, remarkably undisturbed, it's really quite fascinating." Another low laugh had been followed by silence.

A vacation, he was the one who told her she needed some time off, but he distinctly remembered telling her to go sit on a beach, lay in the sun, have a few fruity drinks. This was not that, not at all. This threatened to steal her away. His worries, her explanations, had seemed to get louder and louder, filling his brain, making it hard to think.

Back to her roots, she'd said that. Away from crime, away from him, she didn't say that, but it was implied, at least he'd thought it was. If she went, reconnected with her love of ancient remains, one week could turn into two and then three, then more until he lost her completely. He'd swallowed hard against the tension in his throat and opted for a joke, hoping to hide his fear.

"I think we need to revisit the concept of a vacation, Bones, because that's not it, that's work."

A working vacation, that's what she'd called it that day in his office and he'd let out a scoffing laugh in response. In his mind, you were either working or on vacation, not both, not at the same time. Although, at the moment, lying there under the starry skies of Thailand with his beautiful partner in his arms, he could definitely see the merits of it.

The whole time he'd been thinking he'd had one arm draped across her chest, his hand resting on her shoulder, while his other arm lay comfortably around her waist. Round and round, slow and even, his fingers had been rubbing tight circles absently across her shoulder and waist. Somewhere in all their little adjustments, folding in closer to one another, her camisole had edged up and now his fingers were meeting bare skin. Her sweet sigh of satisfaction brought him back to her.

He hummed, turning his head to press a kiss on her forehead. His whole body relaxed. Content. This wasn't bad. Things were good between them, better than ever. There were possibilities, he saw them, a future, he just hoped she saw it too.

"Now...now is whatever happens next. It's up to us, Bones, you know, it can be whatever we want. Whatever you want. So you tell me, what do you want _now_ to be?"

Evidence, she liked evidence, and it was stacking up with every interaction.

A quiet afternoon where he got down in the trenches next to her and let her teach him about keyhole excavation and step trenching. Her hand on his, guiding him as he helped her brush centuries of dirt away from remains adorned with rows of shell bangles preserved in the ground, still wrapped around the long thin bones of a woman.

The way he took his handkerchief out of his pocket, carefully dousing it with cold water and gently dabbing it across her forehead and neck when he thought she was getting too hot. Or brought her water or a snack, silently reminding to take care of herself.

The look in those deep brown eyes when she'd catch him watching her, not as her protector, not as his assignment or partner or even his friend. This look was something different, there was an element of adoration. He'd smile, knowing he'd been caught but looking very much as if he didn't care, and he wouldn't look away.

Walks through the street market hand in hand. Long talks, laughing together, the way he teased her or gently taught her about some aspect or another of human nature. Kisses, on her forehead or cheek, never on the lips, although there were times when it felt like he was going to and he stopped, they both just stopped.

It would be so much easier if her mind was filled with just those wonderful, exciting changes and nothing else, but it wasn't. Every beautiful moment she considered was countered, as she rehashed all the times she'd almost lost him. Not because he left, she knew he wouldn't do that, wouldn't betray her in that way. He'd proven himself over time. But, there was more than one way to lose him.

The Catherine Bryars of the world, smart, attractive, strong women, who weren't as awkward or complicated as her. Women that weren't as stubborn, that would give him a marriage and a family, things she wasn't sure she could, things he deserved. And then there was their job. It was dangerous. He'd been shot at, kidnapped, chased, fought, all in the line of duty. And his health. He could've died in that surgery for his brain tumor or worse, as she feared when he finally woke and didn't know who she was. To lose him because he didn't remember her, that might be the hardest loss of all. To be nothing to him after being everything.

She physically shuddered at the thought.

He pulled her in closer as if he knew she needed to be reminded that he was there with her, not lost.

"I like this." Her hand drifted along his with just enough pressure to let him know she wanted to be close to him like this, to keep him right where he was.

"I like it too." He reassured her, pressing another kiss on the top of her head, because he could, because she was letting him.

This is what he envisioned thirty or forty or fifty years would look like with her. Not some radical change, nothing different from what they were, just more, more of everything they were to each other.

"You know, Bones, maybe we should just let what happens next happen instead of working so hard to stop it or make it be something it's not, and, well, just see where it goes."

At that she sat up, pulling away from him just enough to spin around and face him. He sat up too, letting his hands run down her arms until he was holding both of hers. Her eyes darted across him, down to their joined hands, back up to his deep brown eyes, giving him a solid nod of approval before answering aloud.

"Yes. Yes." She took another breath, leaning forward so she could let her forehead rest on his, her eyes fixed on the gap between them. He could feel her thinking and let the silence linger between them because it seemed like there was more she wanted to say. Seconds felt like minutes, maybe more, and then she pulled back, finally letting out that breath, a spark in her eyes. "Does this mean I can kiss you now?"

She was sure she heard him growl softly before whispering a confident yes. Drawing her in closer, his hands came up, fingers slipping through her soft curls, brushing them back off her shoulders before cupping her face in his palms and pulling her into a kiss. First light, their lips barely touching, then firmer, then open, capturing her satisfied hum. It was new but familiar. Satisfying, but not enough, never enough. He pulled back watching carefully for her reaction.

"I liked that very much." She whispered as her hands slid down his bare chest to his waist, fiddling with the waistband of his shorts, flipping and straightening until it was flat and even all the way around. "Do you think we could do that again?"

Booth chuckled, low and soft. "Well, yeah, of course." He answered before she pushed him back against the lounge, her lips capturing his.

ooooo0ooooo

A/N: Thank you for your patience in waiting this chapter and all the support and encouragement I've received over the months. I am SO grateful for it. It's kept me sane and motivated to keep writing, even if it was just bits and pieces here and there. Thank goodness for prednisone! My doctor tripled my dose for a week and I feel almost human! I've finally been able to sit up longer and get some stuff done!

I'm not going to lie, though, I've been really nervous about my writing. I am definitely rusty. I think I do better when I can just sit down and write for long stretches. That hasn't been the case with this chapter. I've written a paragraph or two at a time with, I kid you not, over at least eight different documents, each a different way to tell what happens in this chapter.

I would really love your feedback on this chapter, thoughts, feelings, anything! So, _please_ leave a review!

With this chapter up, I'm going to turn my attention to Sound of the Sea and hopefully get another chapter of that one up here soon! Here's to hoping the extra boost from the prednisone lasts for awhile!

Also, I wanted to give a special thanks to Faithinbones and Chosenname for feedback and editing help! They quieted a lot of this nervous writer's fears! Chosenname deserves a medal of honor for straightening out my verb tense alone!

Much much love and many hugs

~DG


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: My sister called about a week ago and when I told her I thought I was getting sick again she responded by asking, "you were well?" That pretty much sums up my fall, winter, and spring. I think I am finally coming out of it...at least I hope so.

Thank you so much for all your patience in waiting for this next chapter and all the encouragement and support I have received. It means the world to me and has literally kept me going with these two stories I am still working on.

It took forever, but I finally got this chapter done. I swear I wrote it a couple sentences at a time, which was no fun at all. Because of that I am extra thankful to snowybones for reading and giving feedback and chosenone for being a sounding board and editing this chapter. I was a wreck over it, very unsettled and it took a long time to get to a place where I was happy with it. I am anxious to get your feedback so please consider reviewing.

Hope you enjoy!

Love and Hugs

~DG

 **Phitsanulok, Thailand**

"So," Booth tried to sound casual, "are you going to tell me where we're going, Bones?"

She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel nervously and looked over at him with those beautiful, soulful eyes of hers, momentarily stealing his breath away.

"Angela said we needed time away. I tried to explain to her that we were already away, but she insisted we weren't away _enough_ , which I don't fully understand."

"You told me that already." But she wasn't ready to give up their final destination, not entirely, so she purposefully dodged the question.

"She knows more about these things than I do."

"Bones."

"Yes."

"We've been driving for hours. Are you trying to get back to D.C. from here because…," he chuckled, "I don't think that-"

"No." She looked genuinely puzzled which made him smile and provided a much-needed break from the tension he'd been feeling. "Of course not, Booth. There are two oceans between us. I couldn't drive there, even if I wanted to."

"Yeah, well, it kind of feels like it." His discomfort from being trapped in the car all day was evident as he adjusted himself almost endlessly in the seat.

"We are going to Chiang Mai. Well, not actually to the city itself, about an hour and a half past that, but that would be the closest recognizable landmark."

"That means nothing to me, you know that, right?"

"Trust me, Booth. You know I am a very trustworthy person." Her eyes were soft, and he realized that beyond the anxiousness he'd been feeling from her since she woke him up at the crack of dawn for this unexpected trip, there was also a layer of excitement.

Of course he trusted her, it was just that she was being so uncharacteristically secretive. Usually she was very blunt, no lies or hidden agendas, just Bones. It was one of the things he loved about her. He always knew where he stood, but not the last few days. These days he had no clue what she was thinking. That, on top of the awkwardness that seemed to be ever-present since their late night intimacy along the banks of the Mun River, left him more than a little worried.

She felt all jumbled to him, a hotbed of emotions.

On top of that, he was pretty sure this whole Angela-says-we-need-to-get-away thing came from one of their secretive late night Skype talks. For the last several nights, immediately after they'd gotten home from the dig or getting dinner, she'd just disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her and leaving him feeling very much on the outside. All he had been able to make out were muffled sounds of the two ladies talking.

Not that it was a bad thing. Women need girlfriends and girl time, he understood that, and he hadn't been eavesdropping, he would never do that. No, he'd sat there night after night in the living room of their shared bungalow, alone, wishing she'd just talk to him about it because he was sure they were talking about him, about them as a potential couple.

Everything would be so much easier if she would just talk to him about it, but no matter how hard he tried, no matter what investigative techniques or charms he employed, Bones never gave up what was bothering her, nor did she give him any hint on what she discussed in her late night chats. So, he was never quite sure if it was Bones asking Angela for advice or Angela just inserting herself into the middle of their relationship, causing problems where there didn't need to be. If he had to make a guess, he'd say the latter for sure. That woman liked to mettle, there was no doubt about it.

Because there were problems. Well, not really problems per se, just weirdness and a complete lack of progression, nothing past some kissing, making out. God, that sounded so high school. Which seemed oddly appropriate because it kind of felt high schoolish. Like he needed to pass her a note or something. Each little gesture, holding hands, a kiss on the cheek, every brush of her hand against his left him excited, and she felt it too, he was sure of it.

It scared her. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Adjusting, groaning, resettling himself, he sucked in a deep breath, held it until his cheeks were puffed out, then slowly let it out. She was looking back and forth between him and the road, trying to be sly about it, but he caught things like that. Those little nonverbal cues were never lost on him, they were obvious, blatant. Smiling softly, he caught her eyes but didn't say anything.

He'd expected there to be some hesitation on her part; she'd panic, maybe run a little. Time would take care of it was his initial thought, but this was just, he didn't know how to classify it, weird and getting weirder. It seemed like every time they got close she'd just freeze up. Like everything would be going fine, beautiful, connected, but then hot would turn to cold, damn near arctic, then awkward, followed by nothing.

And he was determined not to push her. He'd done that when he kissed her on the steps of the Hoover and it hadn't ended well. He wasn't doing that again, not until he was sure he knew what she wanted, which he didn't.

The conversation stalled, leaving a long stretch of silence as they traveled through the open countryside of Thailand. Normally, Booth would have filled the space, but he was quiet for the moment, which was fine with her. She needed the time to think.

Taking a deep breath she settled back into driving.

The silence felt good.

 **Phrae, Thailand**

The miles rolled by without conscious thought, the passing of time going unnoticed. They'd long ago left behind the open farmland and were now in mountainous territory, hills thick with teak trees. It was beautiful, peaceful. Booth had fallen asleep some time ago, and she welcomed the time to think. She wasn't accustomed to spontaneity. Well planned and thought out actions were hallmarks of her personality and points of personal pride. They provided her with stability and comfort, comfort derived from control. She knew that about herself. This, this trip within their trip, felt dangerous to her.

Angela had tried to convince her that there was nothing spontaneous about it because she'd planned it, down to the finest detail, including how and when and what she would tell Booth over the last three days. Still, it left her feeling out of control and she found herself uncomfortably anxious. Glancing over at her partner, she took a long deep breath.

He was beautiful. She knew he wouldn't appreciate that description, it wasn't considered a manly word, but he was beautiful to her. Maybe that was why it was so hard for them to be together, not because he was beautiful or handsome, but because when she looked at him she saw more than just his fine features. She saw a host of experiences that made up that man. A man, the only man, who'd ever made her feel safe and secure.

It was a feeling she'd fought for years, fearing what might come if she ever yielded her defenses to him.

It was a feeling she still fought, and she was sure he was fighting it too, although almost assuredly for different reasons. It was the only explanation that could account for his odd behavior over the last couple of days. Angela assured her that it was their working relationship that was getting in the way. The result of years of boundaries and self-imposed rules of engagement. It was why they needed to get away, farther away, away from any reminders of work or their work roles and the restrictions of those roles. Far enough away that they could just be two people who had feelings for one another.

The lack of specificity in Angela's logic made her uneasy. There was no scientific way to define all these emotions or to tie them to specific behavior, and, without clear definition, how could they ever make sound decisions about their future?

Angela, of course, told her a sound decision was the last thing they needed. She argued that they had been adversely affected by logic and rational thought. What they needed was a complete lack of thought. They needed to act on impulse, give into desire, and for that, Angela insisted, an escape was in order. Some change in their circumstances that would push them past their present set of circumstances. It was the contemplation of those circumstances that led her musings back to their most recent interactions.

"Poultry?" She didn't mean to vocalize her thoughts, but she must have because Booth sat up, and responded.

"What? Poultry?"

"No. Not Poultry. Poultry isn't right." He was confused at best, but she didn't respond to his confusion; she was deep in thought, looking for answers in her own quagmire of thoughts. "Rooster." She was grasping now, and although she tried to sound definitive, she was searching for the right term. "No. That's not it either." She looked back and forth between the road and Booth as if he knew what she was talking about and would magically provide the answer. He did that for her, more often than not, knew her thoughts, understood her meaning, and provided her with a means to articulate them. "Chicken? That's it. Chicken." She looked suddenly satisfied. He looked more confused than ever. "The game, the game you told me about, the one you used to engage in as an adolescent that involved two individuals driving automobiles at extreme rates of speed directly toward one another."

Booth smiled. "I know what Chicken is, Bones. What about it?"

"We seem to be engaged in a game of Chicken...you and I." With a purposeful glance toward Booth, she watched for his reaction. Eyebrows raised high on his forehead, he looked skeptical. "Not literally, obviously, figuratively." Waiting, he watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth then let it go as she exhaled softly. "Sexually."

"What?"

"Sexually." Boldly stated this time, her shoulders squared, posture straight. If she was going to say it, she would own it, she never shied away from sexual topics, but her fidgeting gave away her uncertainty. "You and I. We seem to be involved in an extended game of Chicken, which is why Angela suggested we-"

"I'm not chicken, Bones, and I am _not_ a prude."

"Not _a_ chicken. That is not what I meant."

"I didn't say I was _a_ chicken, I said I'm not chicken, and I don't see what Angela has to do with any of this."

"This is getting confusing."

Booth let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I'm not chicken. I'm respectful, okay? That's what I am. Respectful. A gentleman, because you aren't ready-"

"Me?" Her reaction was guttural, so instantaneous that she couldn't hide the shock in her voice followed by a burst of scoffing laughter.

"Yeah, you, or you'd make that move. I know you would, and until you do...I'm not pushing you." He'd done that before, though he didn't specify that, he didn't want to get into all that with her.

Feeling her push him away and pound against his chest, he didn't think he could survive that again. So, whenever she balked, that was it, he pulled back. Self-preservation, that's what that was, and protection, for her, protecting her right to wait. God, he didn't think he could manage another heartbreak at her hands. With all his soul he wanted this, needed it, and he was convinced she did too. No one would love her more, care for her more, protect her more than him. It was him, he was the one for her. He knew it, he'd always known it. But now he knew better than to push.

"Booth." She'd said his name several times before he turned his head, acknowledging her.

"Sorry. I was just...are you saying it's my fault that, you know, that things haven't…," he motioned with his hands as if he were moving things along, "you know, progressed?"

"Progressed? You mean, why we haven't had sex?" Why did she have to put it like that, so scientific, so removed, analytical, not connected or emotional at all. It would never be just sex with them, she had to know that. She watched as he cringed, then cleared his throat and sat more upright in his seat. He looked uncomfortable. "I don't know if fault is the right word. You're just, you stop, really, that's all I'm saying, and when you stop I do too."

It had troubled her that every time things started to get moving and she thought the natural progression of things would lead to the consummation of this progression in their personal relationship, he never made a move past kissing. His hands wandered, true, but nowhere that would be considered even remotely inappropriate. She didn't know what it meant and found herself hesitating every time he did. Only now he was indicating that he was following her lead. Re-analyzing every encounter, she let her mind wander, trying to determine if she, indeed, was the first to stop.

"So, you don't want me to stop? Is that what you're saying?" She shrugged, then nodded, her eyes wide. He saw in them a vulnerability that he'd missed before. It was easy to forget, given her strong, independent, often brazen personality, that she needed his reassurance whether she ever said so or not.

Clearly his attempts to let her control the pace had backfired, leaving her unsure if he wanted this or not. "Nothing's changed for me, Bones." A wave of panic rolled through her eyes, the memory of his tears, that night, that horribly confusing and overwhelming night she'd replayed in her mind a thousand times as he told her he would have to move on. And he must have sensed it because he soothed her fear almost immediately. "I still want this. I still wanna give this a chance, you and me, us."

"Okay."

"But, you have to want it too."

"I do." She was quick to answer, speaking right over him as soon as she got the gist of what he was saying.

"You're sure?"

"I would not say it if I wasn't, Booth." There was truth in that, he knew it, but still there was something else too, he could feel her hesitancy and he wondered where that was coming from. Maybe her past, from her experiences with family and other relationships. Maybe whatever drove her to think she needed to protect him. And really, whatever that was, how could he ignore it?

The miles continued to roll by. A couple more rest stops were made, snacks were eaten, laughter was shared, and families were caught up on; they talked about Parker and Rebecca, Russ, Amy, the girls, and Max, until Booth dozed off again.

 **Chiang Mai, Thailand**

They'd stopped along the road somewhere between Lampun and Chiang Mai to stretch their legs. A blanket, a bag of fruit, and treats in hand they walked along a path parallel to the road that followed a small river. Old structures nearly swallowed up by the landscape captivated their attention. They'd both had opportunities to travel the world, seen parts far older than anything America offered, but neither of them had the time or inclination to sightsee on those trips, too engrossed in purpose to really enjoy their surroundings. Work, military missions, archaeological digs, always took precedence.

Booth was still on the fence on Angela's relationship advice but she'd gotten one thing right. They needed this time away, a non-working vacation within their working vacation. It was good. They stopped in front of what looked like an ancient temple sitting on a small raised island of sorts, bricks crumbling from years of exposure, set right in the middle of a small river.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? Given the architecture and materials, I'd say it dates back to around 800 A.D."

"It is...beautiful." She caught him staring at her. He'd been less discreet about that, which she loved. "Oh you mean that...the..."

"Small temple...or shrine...most likely Buddhist." Chuckling, she shook her head softly and tucked a wisp of stray hair behind her ear.

"What?"

"You."

"What about me?"

She didn't know how to articulate what she was thinking, thoughts so jumbled with emotion, with years of partnership and friendship and that unparalleled draw she'd always felt for him. So she shrugged. It involved so much feeling, that being unquantifiable, as feelings were. She found them hard to gauge or, for that matter, even understand, and definitely hard to translate into words. A soft smile and vulnerable eyes let him know it wasn't a bad thing. Smiling back, he pointed to some rocks they could sit on close to the water's edge.

They settled. Him up above, higher on the outcropping of rocks, her below him close to the edge of the river.

Cutting a mango, he handed her slices as they shared their snack. They didn't get much fresh fruit in D.C., not really fresh like it was in Thailand. Everything was vibrant, more flavorful. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have a problem eating healthier if fruits and veggies tasted like this back home.

They sat in silence for awhile, eating, taking in the blue sky and light breeze, puffy white clouds rolling overhead. His mind wandered, still troubled by the long conversations she'd been having with Angela, not that he minded that, he got it, it was a girl thing. But, when it came to them, their relationship, he just wanted her to talk to him too, and she would have to if this was going to work. With a mouth still full of the bright orange treat, he spoke somewhat hesitantly.

"I get the importance of girl friends...not like boyfriend/girlfriend relationship kind of things, I mean girls having other friends that are girls."

"I'm not a girl." He smiled. She was so literal.

"No, you are _definitely_ a woman, I get that, but you know what I mean." She nodded, uneasy with the sudden shift in conversation. "And I get that you and Angela are best friends...and that you rely on her, you know, you talk to her about girl…," he shook his head correcting himself, "woman stuff." Eyes wide and troubled, she waited for him to finish. Setting his knife and the fruit down, he scooted off from the rock he was sitting on until he was right behind her and she was nestled between his legs, then pulled her back against his chest. "And I'm not saying you should stop talking to her, that's important, I get that, but I want you to know you can talk to me too, especially about us stuff."

"Us stuff." Grateful for his strong arms surrounding her, she wiggled back into him.

"Yeah, you know, relationship stuff. Instead of talking to Angela, talk to me." Nodding against his chest, she took a deep breath. He could feel her tense in his arms. "Not that you can't talk to her about it too, I just want you to know you can talk to me directly, even if it's about me. You can trust me. That's good communication, right? And I will talk to you, more, I'll be better at it."

It wasn't that simple, not to her. Everything about communication felt complicated and dangerous, always had for her.

"It's scary, I know, Bones, but who better to tell me what you're thinking or feeling or what you need than you, and the same goes, you know, for you. If you need to know what's going on with me, just ask."

"I trust you." She contested, because she did, she trusted him more than she'd ever trusted any other man, but she was scared, scared of the million things that could go wrong, the million things she could do wrong, all of which she had considered, starting with not communicating with him as he felt she should. "I just don't...I'm not good at social interaction, you know that about me." What she didn't say was how that made her doubt why Booth would be interested in her past their professional partnership and friendship. Her social skills were clumsy at best. She offended people, often, even Booth.

Pressing a firm kiss to her temple, he let his lips linger there. "You are good at communicating with me." She let out a scoffing laugh. "Seriously, you are and when you fall short or I fall short, we'll work it out together, right? Me and you."

"What's ours is ours."

"Well, yeah."

 **Ban Pa Sak Ngam, Thailand**

Taking in a long, nervous breath, she pulled the car into the dirt slot set aside for parking that was closest to their accommodations for the next several days. It was time. That they were going _somewhere_ was obviously not a surprise after they'd been traveling for nearly twelve hours, but their destination, their accommodations were.

"Booth." She whispered quietly. Groaning, he stretched against the stiffness and confines of the small car. He'd been sleeping when they got to the resort and she decided not to wake him up until after she'd registered them and gotten directions to their cabin. "We're here."

He could hear the tension in her voice. Nervousness, he suspected. Taking a long deep breath, he blinked, trying to pull the world into focus. He found himself looking straight out the car window while she watched his expression transform.

"What? No way." Those beautiful brown eyes lit up as he followed the wooden staircase in front of him winding its way up a huge trunk to what looked like a cabin nestled in the treetops. "This is so cool, Bones. This is where we're staying? For reals?"

"You're happy." Chuckling, she felt relief for the first time in days.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'm happy, who wouldn't be, living the Swiss Family Robinson dream." He was out of the car in no time, checking out the surroundings. "I've always wanted to stay someplace like this."

They were in the clearing of a pretty thick forest area. There were several other treehouse cabins, some barely off the ground and some up higher in the trees. There were even some swing bridges forming pathways to what looked like a dining area and clubhouse. He could hear a river running close by and saw all kinds of signs pointing to different activities. Some written in both Thai and English, others with pictures to help tourists. It wasn't huge, though, and it was definitely secluded. "So, this one is ours?" He asked as he started unloading the trunk and gathering up bags.

"Yes." Her arms were full and she lobbied for taking several trips, but Booth wanted to get up there and explore. Why make two or three trips when you can make one, he argued. So they set off, her with a piece of luggage in each hand and one bag draped over her shoulder, him with easily two or three times as much.

"It's owned and operated by the man who built the cabins, he's a retired architect." She spoke as she climbed the stairs.

"They look incredible."

"Each one is unique."

They were up to the first landing, when she stopped suddenly, turning to face him.

"Geez, Bones, you need to be more careful, I could've run into you and knocked you over or something."

"I'm fine." That look of joy and relief was gone, she looked nervous again, more nervous than she'd been before.

He motioned for her to keep moving up the stairs, but she stood there, not saying anything at first, shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking anxious. "You sure?"

"Yes, of course." But, she didn't move. Taking in a long slow breath, she let it out as she looked up toward the cabin. "There's a bathtub." She waited a moment until he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Good….Great. Can we?" He offered, leaning forward as if to start moving up the stairs again.

"I thought you would like that, you haven't been able to soak in the tub this whole trip." Thai bathrooms were very different, and they took some getting used to. The entire room was tiled and there was no division between the shower and the rest of the facilities. Booth had complained about them daily, sometimes twice a day depending on how many showers he had taken that day.

"Sure. True. Um, do you think we could talk about it more when we get up there?" He motioned up with his chin and her eyes followed his to the top of the trees where the cabin rested. "These are kinda heavy."

"Yes. Yes. Of course." They'd only made it to the second landing of the weathered wooden stairs when she started talking again, thankfully while still climbing this time. "Of the ten cabins here at the resort, this is the only cabin with a bathtub. The rest have showers, some of them open-air showers. Even with the privacy provided by the foliage, I figured you wouldn't like that." Her face scrunched up a little in distaste, which made him smile. "This one isn't as high in the trees as some, but it has the tub."

"Well, thank you, Bones. I look forward to a good long soak."

She reached the next level, a porch complete with a sitting area and the first part of their cabin, there was a second story above them. She was a few steps in front of him when she stopped abruptly, whipping around to face him.

"There's only one bed." They stared at one another for what seemed like forever to her, he didn't say anything, didn't respond in any noticeable way, so she continued. "It's a king sized bed, well, the dimensions are close to a king sized bed, it was built to fit in the space, but there's only one...bed." Searching his deep brown eyes, she talked softer. "We can share the bed...which is what I anticipated we'd do...share...if you're okay with that." A soft smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes.

"Relax, Bones, of course it's okay." Her shoulders fell in relief and she chuckled soft and low before looking up to meet his eyes. "It's all good, okay? This is good. We're good."

Sighing in relief, she let out a long held breath and turned back toward the door of their home for the next few days. There was still a significant amount of unknown which made her nervous, she didn't like the unknown, but their travel time had helped and she found herself feeling much more settled than she'd been when she'd anxiously woken him up at the crack of dawn to start their journey.

"After you," she motioned, holding the door open, and Booth obliged, arms full, still grinning from ear to ear.

Only a few steps in, he stopped, dropping their bags where he stood. "This is so cool." He wandered, eyes darting all around the space as he circled a thick tree trunk and branches that came right through the center of the room. He was in what must be the living room. There were bench seats under the windows, a small couch, a sink with little cabinets, and even some bookshelves tucked in under stairs that led up to what he assumed was the bedroom.

Setting the bags she was carrying down on the couch, she followed him as he opened cupboards and doors in exploration. They found that bathtub she'd picked the cabin for, it wasn't anything fancy but it was deep and the owners of the treehouse resort promised there would be plenty of hot water to fill it. He thanked her again for her thoughtfulness, after a long day of traveling, he was sure a bath would feel good.

The stairs led up to a small landing and door. Outside was another deck, this one looking out over the river he'd heard. Leaning over the railing he looked out both ways. This deck was tucked away. There were no other cabins in line of sight, very private, with a small table and two lounge chairs.

He grabbed her hand as he came back into the cabin and pulled her up the stairs with him toward the bedroom. There wasn't much space up there, and most of it was taken up by the bed which was surrounded on the outside by heavy curtains that could be pulled closed. The raw wood was beautiful and highlighted the intricate angles of the roof. The slatted windows were open, and there was a breeze blowing light curtains into the room. The rustle of leaves was calming, and he was sure it would make for perfect white noise to fall asleep to. There were shelves surrounding the bed, on which were candles, a couple of small lamps, and fans for cooling the place down.

It was magical. A far cry from their very functional and drab bungalow back in Phimai. This was definitely more like a real vacation.

Still holding her hand, Booth pulled her into his arms and leaned down to kiss her. One kiss then two, as they moved their way closer to that very inviting bed. Her soft hums of approval egged him on as he abandoned her lips and headed over to her ear.

"It's perfect, Bones." His breath tickled her ear and she found herself curling into it as he kissed his way down her neck, his hands tracing the curve of her hips while holding her close.

This was perfect, she was perfect, and he was sure it was finally going to happen for them, when the loud ring of her phone interrupted her fingers undoing his belt buckle.

"Seriously?" He complained, refusing to give her much space as she struggled to get her phone out of her pocket.

"It's the front desk." She mumbled. "It's about dinner…" His hands were still busy and he wasn't at all sure he needed dinner, his hunger currently redirected. "No restaurants," she barely stuttered out, "hour and a half away." They'd finished the last of their snacks at their last rest stop. "I'm hungry."

"Me too." He whispered as his lips made their way across her collar bone. Chuckling, she shook her head.

"We have to go, Booth." His hands fell to his side as he took a step back.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Dinner was served earlier this evening. Because of our long travel time they cooked this meal especially for us."

"Okay." He finally gave in. "Okay...but after dinner-"

"Dessert." She teased as she grabbed his hand and led him back downstairs.


End file.
